The Oaxaca Affair
by MLaw
Summary: Solo and Kuryakin wander the jungles of Mexico in search of ancient artifacts that have suddenly become of interest to T.H.R.U.S.H. but are these ordinary artifacts or are they something more sinister... warning: HET. CH 1 # 11 in the Saga-series AU
1. Chapter 1

Two men staggered out the of entrance at the top of the ancient pyramid, one dragging the other as a violent plume of dust and debris exploded behind them, knocking them both down to the roughly hewn stone platform where human sacrifices were once offered to the gods.

One of them pushed himself up onto his hands, choking and gagging on the contaminants that filled his airway. His spasms slowing until finally he coughed intermittently as he reached over; rolling his now motionless companion onto his back.

"Napoleon?" Illya rasped, "NAPOLEON!" He yelled his partner's name, shaking him. The Russian leaned forward feeling for a pulse, listening closely to Solo's mouth and nose for a sign of respiration; looking for any indication of life.

Kuryakin let out a sigh of relief then began to cough again, as his partner suddenly sputtered, breathing desperately for air. He lifted Napoleon to a sitting position as he groaned; holding him up trying to help his ease his breathing.

"You alright?"

Solo tried to take a deep breath, then erupted into another spasm of coughing accompanied by a gasp, acknowledging a sharp pain as he grabbed his side.

"ribs...there's a pain, lower back," he said, trying to hold back another spasm of coughing.

"Probably broken ribs," Illya assessed," you may have sustained a spinal injury from that cap-stone that grazed you."

"Thank you doctor for your astute observations...you still have them?

Illya patted a bulging canvas bag that was slung over his shoulder.

"You just had to touch didn't you?" Napoleon said,"couldn't wait minute?"

"Well, we could not leave them there. How was I supposed to know it was booby-trapped?"

Kuryakin had lifted the objects from their resting place, triggering a trap that triggered the chamber to self destruct; sending columns and capstones falling one after the other like dominoes. With interior stones collapsing all around them; the two agents barely escaped with their lives as they ran out the exit at the top of the pyramid.

"Look, you go on ahead," Solo coughed, knowing they had to make a hasty retreat from the site. "I'll only slow you down."

"Not a chance. Remember we have had this discussion already... after the last time you left me to disastrous results. It works both ways my friend; I am not leaving you and that is final answer."

"Yes, _David_."

"Please, do not say that?" Illya said, still feeling a little uncomfortable being reminded of the madwoman that nearly killed him, thinking he was her son.

"O.K. no aruguments from me tovarisch. I don't exactly relish the idea of being abandoned in the jungle anyway." He tried wiping the dust from his face. "Hey we have any water?"

"Just enough for drinking, not for bathing, I am afraid."

Illya offered him a swig from the sole canteen that remained between the two of them, then took a quick swallow when Napoleon was finished.

"Do you think you can stand?"

"We'll find out?" Solo said as he put his hand on Illya's shoulder.

The two agents helped each other to rise, sending them both into another fit of coughing, Napoleon groaning just a little, trying to mask his distress. The Russian supported his American partner, not telling him of the pain in his own side; more than likely cracked ribs as well.

They looked out into nearly overgrown plaza of El Azuzul; in the center of it, facing the south side of the Olmec pyramid like a great sentinels stood the immense carvings of two stylized human figures facing the carved statue of a jaguar, erected there by ancient artisans.

Illya stopped for a moment, pulling the contents of the pouch, holding two small carved heads, examining and comparing their features to the thick lips and flat noses of the monoliths that stood beneath them in the plaza as they stared out with hollow gazes. They were similar but not exact; the ones in his hands were more like the colossal severed heads found at the other major Olmec sites.

The objects suddenly felt strangely warm to him, and seemed for a second or two that they had begun to vibrate then stopped; the Russian thinking it was the just the heat affecting his imagination as he returned them to the pouch.

"These are simple stone carvings" Napoleon asked, "why is Thrush so interested in them? I don't think going into the antiquities business is exactly their cup of tea?"

Illya placed his hand on the pouch; reassuring himself there was nothing strange about the artifacts...

"There are sixteen of the large Olmec heads at four sites, San Lorenzo has ten of them, La Venta three, Tres Zapotes two and Cobata has one...legend has it, there were eight smaller heads and it is said when they were united in the presence of any of the monoliths, great knowledge and power would be revealed.

"So we're chasing after Thrush as they chase after a legend,"Napoleon sighed.

"Apparently so? Thrush has three of them, and we have two, so..."

"So three left."

"Good to know that your keen mathematical skills were not affected by any of that falling debris." Illya quipped. "Napoleon, I find it is too much of a coincidence that Thrush came into the possession of those three carvings and then communications problems began in the area.

"Illya that's a pretty big stretch of the imagination don't you think...and this theory coming from a man who until year ago didn't believe in ghosts? I mean, stone heads are not exactly high tech?"

"I know, but trust me, I am beginning to accept the arcane my friend," the Russian smiled at him."and when it comes to Thrush; I now believe anything is possible."

"Do you have an idea where the other three heads are then?"

"Not sure yet; I am still thinking about it."

The heat and humidity were oppressive as they moved down the long stairs of the pyramid, until they finally reached it's base. The dust that still covering them mixed with their perspiration, creating a muddy silt on their skin and in their hair as they stopped to rest on the bottom steps; trying to get their bearings.

Illya looked out across the plaza again, shading his eyes with his hands; gazing up at the position of the sun, "We head that way, north," he said pointing towards the jungle where they would be forced to navigate again.

They had lost their jeep and supplies when it went toppling over the edge of a washed out road; having thrown themselves from it just before it plunged into the Rio Coatzacoalcos. It was dark and they hadn't seen that part of the primitive road was gone, until it was nearly too late. They lay on the muddy embankment, cursing their luck as they were now forced to travel through the jungle on foot to El Azuzul.

"Wait a minute," Napoleon said, undoing the strap to his wrist watch. He flipped it over to reveal a small compass attached to the back of it.

"And when were you going to tell me you had this?"

"Hey we didn't need it until now, you were doing just fine," Napoleon looked at the compass. "north is that way," he said, smiling as he made a slight correction in Illya's estimation, then shrugged." I was a boy scout, remember?"

"Oh yes...that is the reason why you get us lost every time you drive?" the Russian laughed, then coughed again.

"And where exactly is going north taking us?"

"To the archaeological site at San Lorenzo Tenochtitlán. The largest number of Olmec heads are there and I suspect Thrush will be as well...we find them, we find the other heads, I think?"

"So that's the plan then; let them find the heads for us then we take them away?"

"Yes? And if they have not found them; then we relieve them of the three they already have."

"O.K. that way then," Napoleon smiled as he pointed again toward their new direction, getting his partner to help support him as they headed off together into the jungle filled with a kaleidoscope of shapes, colors and aromas.

The jungle teemed with the sounds of life; surrounding them as they stopped after traveling for some time. Illya allowing Solo to rest under the pretense of checking the compass again; refusing to acknowledge his own pain. The Russian handed the canteen to his partner, after pretending to drink from it first; instead he wet his mouth with the water condensation on the large plant leaves around them.

"It would do for now," he thought," knowing that Solo was in a great deal of pain and needed the water more. Napoleon was trying to hide it but his pace was beginning to slow; his back injury was affecting his gait as he was beginning to limp badly.

In the distance, clouds loomed over the tops of the Tuxtla mountains, they were too far away to hear the rumbling of thunder but the flashes of lightning were visible. It could rain, or it could not; one never knew in this part of Mexico, as the two agents continued their trek through the dense jungle growth; suspecting the storms over the mountains would be coming their way soon enough.

Three weeks earlier Napoleon Solo stood with Alexander Waverly, watching in communications as the grid for the southwest United States began to cascade to a shut down, under what appeared to be an immense dampening field.

A complete systems overload occurred for the third time as local telephone and power companies worked frantically to resolve the issue from the first moment it happened; seeking to find the source of the problem but without success.

No one knew what was causing it. The grid would return to complete normalcy just as inexplicably as it would begin to fail, but each time the failure would extend farther than the last, affecting a larger region.

"Mr. Solo, I want you and Mr. Kuryakin to head to our office in New Mexico to investigate this. I suspect trouble is afoot, possibly our feathered adversaries being up to no good again. Thrush also seems to be making their presence known in Mexico, sources have indicated they have been stealing antiquities from several archaeological sites as well museums. I don't know if the two schemes are related or not as that remains to be seen." Waverly glanced around the communications room, "And just exactly where is Mr. Kuryakin, I thought he would have been here with you?"

"He went home sir and will be back shortly; he said he had a personal matter to attend to and wouldn't be gone long."

"Alright then. Make sure he is fully briefed; I expect you both to leave for the southwest this evening."

Waverly handed Napoleon a pair of airline tickets that would take them to the Greater Southwest International Airport in Texas, from there they would have to drive to the field office in Santa Fe; a long dusty and dry trip that Solo was not looking forward to.

Illya Kuryakin opened the wrought iron gate in front of his house in Washington Square, quickly jogging up the eleven stairs, skipping a few with a lively spring in his step. He unlocked the front door to the two story brownstone, stepping into the vestibule, punching in the alarm code then opening the inside door; he walked quietly into his home .

His son Demya was down in the basement apartment with Auntie Olga, his nanny. So he and his wife had the entire house to themselves. He slipped off his shoes, then his jacket, tie and then his shirt; dropping them like a trail as he walked up behind his wife where she stood at the kitchen sink.

"I hear ye?" she laughed at his attempt to creep up behind her.

"I must be getting careless," he said," as he leaned against her, slipping his hands up under her blouse, giving her breasts a playful squeeze with his hands. She could feel his arousal as he pressed his pelvis against her.

"Privacy is such a wonderful thing," he whispered as he began nibbling at her throat.

Elliott turned, wrapping her arms around his neck; kissing him on the lips, when he suddenly picked her up in his arms, carrying her to bottom of the stairs.

"Not going to take me all the way upstairs?" she giggled.

"Only if you do not want me to have enough strength to do what I came home for?"

"What? Yer getting old Kuryakin!" she laughed, running up the stairs, with Illya scrambling after her.

He followed her down the hall to their bedroom, closing and locking the door as Elliott stood beside their large bed, already beginning to remove her clothes.

Illya walked over to her, then the two of them finished removing each other's clothing frantically, as they kissed. Elliott climbed onto the edge of the bed when he grabbed her by the waist, holding her.

"No, stay there... just like that," Illya said, leaning over her, wrapping arms around her waist, as she knelt on her hands and knees,"I have been doing some reading," he whispered, "they say this position is most advantageous for conception."

"Good God, ye make it sound like one of yer lab experim...oooooooh!" Elliott moaned as her husband suddenly slipped inside her.

"Better? he whispered as he gently moved with her.

"Mmmm, oh yes."

He made love to Elliott slowly, calming down from their initial excitement; pleasuring her with his steady rhythm, then as he began rock faster, he reached down with his hand, massaging her with his fingers until she reached orgasm. He paused feeling her climax, then thrust once, then again as her contractions made him surrender to his own pleasure with a long moan. Illya stayed there holding his wife in his embrace for a moment, then kissing her on the shoulder; he flopped down beside her on the bed; his heart still racing.

"Wow," she said," not bad for a quickie? It _is_ nice not having ta worry about a little pair of curious eyes now isn't it?" she smiled. They were both happy that Demya had his own bedroom now, giving them the solitude they both craved when being intimate. Demmy had become more and more insistent about wanting a baby brother, especially seeing so many other children with siblings across the street in Washington Square Park when he would be taken there to play, but not understanding why he did no have a brother to play with like the other children. It was then that Elliott and Illya decided it was the right time to have another child.

"Mmm huh," Illya mumbled; his eyes closed, agreeing with her description of their love-making as he started to drift to sleep.

"Oh no ye don't. Ye have ta get back to headquarters remember?"

"I know, but a nap would be nice right now," he smiled, then rolled to his side facing her. He reached over, looking into her eyes; tracing his fingers around her face, then her throat, then down to her breasts again. "They say that three is the charm?" he smiled.

"Let's hope so darlin'? What are the odds of me getting pregnant three times, not trying and now that we want ta make a baby, we can't? Maybe three tries will be the charm?"

Elliott reached out with her hand, stroking him until he became erect again, then pushing Illya to his back; she lowered herself, slipping on top of him as he lay his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes concentrating on her undulating movements.

Suddenly his communicator chirrped, making the Russian moan for a different reason.

"Don't answer it," she whispered breathlessly.

"Have to," he said reaching for it on the night stand.

"Kuryakin here."

"Hey, when are you coming?"

"Excuse me?" Illya blurted out, while his wife was still on top of him.

"back to headquarters, when are you coming back? We just got a new assignment and I need to fill you in."

Illya moaned just a little as Elliott giggled, making her movement faster.

"What did you say?" Napoleon asked.

"Nothing. mmmbe there soon, out." he ended the call abruptly and rolled his wife over, pulling her beneath him; thrusting into her again, harder this time until she let out a scream of delight. He arched his back as he moaned, bringing a quick conclusion to their second round of love-making. It was their last chance to try again to conceive a child for a while, as Elliott would be leaving that night for an assignment that would keep her away from home for at least a month if not longer...

"Love you," she whispered as he sat on the edge of the bed, getting dressed. " I guess I'll see ye whenever I get back from Tokoyo...any clue where ye are headed?"

He shook his head," I will let you know...love you Annushka," he said kissing deeply as he said good bye, then left.


	2. Chapter 2

The sun was beginning to set and they both knew they needed to find some shelter...Illya could feel the rains coming. The old wives tale of aching joints rang true for him at predicting the weather and depending upon where the slight twinge of pain would occur; he could fairly well predict the arrival of a storm, and sometimes it's intensity.

Napoleon just accepted it as one his partner's uncanny abilites but Illya knew it was only the atmospheric pressure affecting old injuries. It amused him to let his partner think he possessed some sort of psychic power...although Elliott often insisted he did have some sort of gift.

He remembered that his Uncle Vanya had the "gift" and wondered what he put off to coincidence, that which could be explained away by science might actually be some sort of special ability that he possessed.

The noise from the jungle animals was rising to a crescendo as they were settling in, readying to nest for the evening; the calls of monkeys, parrots, tucans, frogs and a myriad of other creatures echoing as the light faded. It was the beasts of the night that now concerned the Russian; jaguars, pumas, wild boars would be roaming around them in search of a tasty meal.

He left Napoleon leaning against a tree having dozed off, exhausted from fighting back his pain, He tried not to travel too far off as he gathered what wood he could find to build a fire. Once that was done and the fire burning brightly against the darkness; he set about gathering large plant leaves fronds and brush, piling them over a pair of trees that had fallen toghether on the ground, forming a natural support for a lean-to.

He finished putting the last of the coverings in place, just as there was a flash of lightning, followed by the long, resonant rumble of thunder. He quickly dug a small hole just under the edge of their shelter; picking up the burning logs from the fire, balancing them on a pair of sticks; moving them into the hole.

His partner never opened his eyes the entire time Illya worked silently around him.

"Napoleon?" he whispered, trying not to startle him.

"Mmmm?"

"Come on, it is going to rain my friend?"

Solo yelped as his partner helped him to his feet. "Pain is getting worse," he groaned as Illya got him under the lean-to, just in time as the plop, plop of raindrops began to hit the leaves around reached out, cupping his hands catching some rainwater, drinking it then splashing some on his face and hair to wash away the muck. He took the bandana from around his neck, soaking it in the rain then handed it to his partner to wipe his own face clean.

He settled Napoleon down after giving him another drink of water, urging his partner to take a long draught. Illya sat with Solo resting his head on his lap; planning to remain on watch for the night, with his special in his hand, propped against his chest. He pulled his communicator, trying it again but there was still no signal; chalking it up to the mysterious dampening field.

Illya tried to fend off sleep, but his own pain and exhaustion forced him to succumb to it unwillingly; his eyes began to droop he stared into the dancing of the mezmerizing flames, until his lids finally drifted closed.

It was nearly dawn when the resounding snarl of an animal, perhaps a jaguar startled the Russian from his sleep with a gasp. "Der'mo, YA osel_shit!" he swore, calling himself a jackass for having fallen asleep.

The fire had dwindled away and he threw a few more pieces of wood on it, reigniting it; thankful that he had the forethought to bring extra sticks and branches under the lean-to before the rains came.

Illya was unfamiliar with the plant life enough so that he deemed it unsafe to risk trying to eat any of if for fear of being poisoned, fauna... animal life would be the only source of food.

He looked down at Napoleon's face, looking very pale and drawn as he slept; when Illya's stomach suddenly called out to him, protesting it's emptiness. He lifted Solo's head from his lap, placing it gently to the ground; concerned that moving had not woken him, then crawled out of the shelter, letting out a little moan, acknowledging his own pain in his side.

He checked the clip in his special. loading a round into the chamber, the began his trek off into the forest, taking Napoleon's compass in hand as he began his search for prey. Illya found his breathing was becoming difficult as he held his hand to his ribs, as if cradling them would help.

He stopped, drinking deeply from water that had pooled inside a large banana leaf; the tree sadly devoid of fruit, when he heard a rustling in front of him. He froze where he stood as the sound moved closer, until he saw a pig-like animal poke it's long prehinsile snout through the brush as it was foraging along the ground.

It stopped, suddenly raising it's probiscus as if sniffing the air for danger, then let out two long almost bird-like cries. Illya recognized it by it's features and striped camouflage as a young tapir, perhaps two feet in length and knew they were a prized food source in these parts.

He raised his hand slowly, trying not to frighten the creature as he knew they had the potential to move quickly. He aimed his gun carefully then fired, hitting it directly in the head; killing it instantly. There was a sudden flutter of birds, parrot squalking and monkeys screeching as the shot from the repeat from the weapon echoed among the trees.

He grabbed the tapir by the hind legs with a grunt, as the pain in his side sharpened; dragging the carcass behind him as he returned to camp.

Napoleon was awake as he approached the shelter; Illya soaked in sweat from the effort of pulling the tapir along the ground. The pain in his side was sharper now from having hunched over whille moving the animal along.

"I thought you'd left me?" Napoleon said like a wounded child.

"Not a chance, remember I told you I would not? I just went to find us a little breakfast," he smiled.

"And what in God's name is that?" Solo asked, watching his partner gut and clean the striped beast.

"It is a tapir, the closest relatives to it are I believe, horses and rhinoceroses."

"Yeah, right..." Solo said eyeing it with disdain," you sure it's edible? he asked knowing his partner would eat just about anything.

"Yes very much so...it is considered a delicacy in this part of the world."

"Yeah, so are grubs and scorpions, but you won't be catching me eathing them."

"Grubs are a very good source of protein, though fried scorpions do taste a bit fishy." the Russian grinned.

"Thank you so much for sharing those little tid bits of knowledge." Napoleon said with disgust.

Illya skewered the skinned beast on a large branch anchoring it in the ground next to the fire, starting to roast it in the flames. When the Russian deemed it cooked enough, he sliced off a piece of the meat, tasting it; then he smiled in satisfaction," Mmm, good. A little gamey, but it will do."He grabbed a large leaf and using it as a sort of plate; he then cut off smaller pieces; doling them out between Napoleon and himself.

"I think that we are not far from San Lorenzo," he said, chewing mouthful of meat," but it remains to be seen if you are able to travel?"

"Look, you don't worry about me. We'll get there alright so and the sooner the better, then we can get the hell out of this place." he said slapping a mosquito away from his arm.

The sat eating their fill of the meat when they both froze, hearing a noise in the brush behind the shelter. The two agents instantly went on alert, drawing their specials from their shoulder holsters.

A lone figure stepped out in front of them, dressed in a crude home-spun loin cloth, his face and chest were tatttooed, he had a brightly feathered collar around his neck and wore a nose ring of dark jade.

"Buenos días," Illya tried greeting him in Spanish but received no reaction. "A kua'un_hello," he then said in the one word of Mixtec that he knew, it was but one of many variants of the dialect used by a number of the indigineous tribes in southern Mexico.

That got a reaction from the man, his eyes opening just a little wider. Unfortunately that being the sum-total of Illya's vocabualry' the beginnings of a conversation were just not going to happen. But then he noticed the man looking down at the tapir, still roasting on the fire.

"Hambre_hungry?" he said in Spanish as he sliced a piece of meat offering it to the stranger on the tip of his knife.

The man hesitated, looking at it cautiously then took it; squatting down in front of the campfire chewing away on his morsel.

"Más_more?" he said offering another piece, which the man accepted now without hesitation.

"Me nombre es Illya_my name is Illya," he said placing his hand to his chest. "Illya," he repeated." Su nombe_ your name?" he said gesturing towards the he repeated his name again pointing to his chest, then pointed to his partner."Napoleon." He repeated their names again pointing each time.

"Do you think the 'me Tarzan you Jane' thing is going to work here?" Napoleon whispered, smiling at the man.

"EEl-ya" the man repeated, pointing to Kuryakin," NAH-ruh-yon" he said gesturing to Solo.

"Si..that is right." Illya smiled, mumbling that the man pronounced his name better than his partner did.

"Su nombre?" Illya repeated again.

"Teysi Ñaña_jaguar claw." The man pointed to himself.

"A kua'un Tesyi Ñana," Illya repeated his greeting to him trying to be polite.

"Kobaadín EEl-ya," he responded in kind, then proceeded to speak rapidly, assuming the Kuryakin understood him.

"No no, my friend, no entiendo_I do not understand?"Illya indicated with hand gestures.

"I wonder if he knows the way to San Lorenzo Tenochtitlán? Napoleon whispered.

Teysi Ñaña reacted to that name."Tenochtitlán?" he repeated.

"Si, Tenochtitlán" Illya said, gesturing as if they were lost and needed to find it.

"Ñuu...Tenochtitlán cua kuku" Teysi Ñaña gestured with his fingers like someone walking, then pointed.

"I think we just found out which way to go," Napoleon said, suddenly breaking into a fit of coughing.

Teysi reached into a pouch at his side offering a small leaf to Solo, who refused it with a wave of his hand. The man seemed to understand, putting the leaf in his own mouth, beginning to chew it; then offered another to the agent.

Napoleon accepted it tentatively this time, giving it a sniff before he put it into his mouth. Once tasting it he smiled as it had a pleasant taste and instantly soothed his breathing.

"Vexi," Teysi gestured to them to come with him, then made a movement to his mouth indicating to eat, saying "kaxi...Tenochtitlán". Apparently he was inviting them to come eat with him...perhaps at San Lorenzo.

Illya kicked dirt on the fire, extinguishing it; then helped his partner up to his feet. This time Solo found it almost impossible to stand with the pain in his back that was now shooting down into one of his legs; relying on Illya and now Teysi Ñaña to help him as they disappeared slowly into the jungle again.


	3. Chapter 3

Alexander Waverly was quite perturbed; the communications disruptions were occurring with greater frequency, and had increased even farther in their range.

He had sent his two best agents off to the Southwest part of the country to investigate but had not heard from them except for intermittent transmissions, since the dampening was affecting their communicators. The last message from Solo had indicated they were headed to Mexico; where specifically and why he did not know as that was when the signal went down again.

The blackouts were wreaking havoc not only with UNCLE operations; but with all law enforcement and emergency services being affected as well. Chaos was beginning to erupt in the affected areas as the unsavory element in the local populations were aware they had an opportunity to flex their muscles; robberies, lootings and the like were on the rise.

If this dampening field were to continue to grow; it would have catastrophic results...the perfect situation in which Thush would step in to attempt to take control. The entire southwest including all of Mexico, the Baja peninsula, and parts of Texas were now feeling the affects of the communications disruptions; the blackouts were having the same affects in populated cities as well as in the limited pockets of civilizations that had access to technology, leaving people cut off and stranded in many areas.

The man Teysi Ñaña had led the agents not to Tenochtitlán as they had presumed but to his own village, nestled deep in a secluded part of the jungle.

It was like stepping back in time for Illya and Napoleon as they walked past the primitive thatched huts. Women and children clad as flimsily as Tesyi stared at the two men and were especailly interested in the Russian with his yellow hair and pale skin. The women were weaving baskets, grinding what looked like maze, painting clay earthenware with bright symbols. Men watched them cautiously, with obsidian tipped spears in their hand, bows and arrows with the deadly sharp obsidian arrow heads, stood by at the read, leaning against their huts.

Their companion Teysi brought them to presumably his own abode" huachi" he called it, then once inside, indicated for them to sit "Ngo, ngo" he repeated, gesturing towards woven mats on the floor.

Illya helped lower his partner down with great effort.

"I don't think I'm going to be much help to you after all," Solo whispered." my back...the pain is becoming excruciating. And you're starting to not look too good yourself? Are you alright?"

"I am fine, just tired that is all." The Russian lied," it is you I am worried about my friend."

His partner said nothing more but Napoleon knew by the look in his eyes that he'd have to surrender to the inevitable; Illya would have to leave him behind. At least he would hopefully be in relative safely here in the village until Illya returned for him.

A woman entered the hut carrying ornately painted clay bowls, decorated in stylized pictographs of jaguars, snakes and men in ornate dress and feathered headpieces.

Tesyi pointed to her saying, "Kuku Yodzo_dove feather, indicating her name, "Ña vi'," he said putting his hand on his chest, possibly indicating she was his wife. She smiled, offering them the bowls.

"A kua'un" Illya greeted her with a smile as he accepted the bowl. It looked like some sort of meat in a brown broth.

"A kua'un tata" she said pointing to herself, possibly correcting his greeting.

"A kua'un...tata," he repeated.

"kaxi_eat," she said, then reached out touching Illya's hair."Ah, kwaa," "Possibly the word for it's color," he thought, imagining they did not see too many blue-eyed, blond Russians.

"Nya!" Teysi stopped her..."Cua'a!" he seemed to be ordering her out.

"Kaxi" he said making the gesture to eat. Both agents gave the food a sniff. "ñuoy," he told them. Then moved both his hands, scratching under his arms, imitating an animal sound.

"Oh, he is telling us it is monkey," Illya said, scooping a up a mouthful with his fingers.

"Oh joy," sighed Napoleon, giving it another sniff before tasting it; making a face at it.

"Smile,"Illya whispered, "do not insult his hospitality."

"EEl-ya, NAH-ruh-yon... ko'u_ drink," Teysi said, offering them another bowel, "ndute_water."

Illya passed it first to his partner, who took a long drink then handed it back to him.

"Teysi Ñaña...Tenochtitlán?" Illya then asked him.

"Ña- z- u" he shook his head, "Tenochtitlán moku." Tesyi ran his thumb across his throat.

"I think he is saying it is bad, a place of death?"

"I think I got that." Napoleon said.

"Moku?" Illya repeated.

"D u," he nodded,"moku."

"Why isn't that surprising? Napoleon sighed.

Teysi indicated that he would leave them and would return; short while later he reappeared with an older man accompanying him, dressed similarly but wearing a colorful print shirt, that was obviously old and tattered.

"Buenos días señores. Hablo un poco de su idoma_hello, I speak a bit of your language... Spanish and your English too." he said slowly. "I lived for a while as a child in the great city of Oaxaca, in the the most sacred lands of the Olmec people and we are their ancestors. My name is Yudzo Coo_ plain of the snake, but you can call me by my city name, Juan."

"Gracias Juan, mi nombre es Illya y este mi compañero Napoleón_ thank you Juan, my name is Illya and this is my partner Napoleon. It is very important that we reach San Lorenzo Tenochtitlán, could you help us?"

Illya took a chance, removing the carvings from his pouch to show Juan.

The man moaned in fear, "NO no señor! It is not good you have these. They are the 'ndaiza d ii chan'ngi' the sons of the stars...they came from the heavens brought by the gods, they are very powerful and dangerous! Please, you must return them to where you found them!"

"And what makes them so powerful?" Napoleon asked.

"It is said in the wrong hands, they can bring an end to the world," the man whispered. The Olmec people were called the 'children of the clouds' when we lived in the mountains and there were eight of these head given to us by the gods. It was the task of the Olmec people to safeguard them.

It was the gods who created the great Olmec heads in their likeness and the small ones were their children, fashioned from the stone of the Tuxla mountains and brought on rafts down the river Coatzacalcos to Tenochtitlán, El Azuzul and other sacred places, there the children were hidden away but then forgotten as the people lost their beliefs in the old ways.

"Well there are some very bad men who have come into possession of three of _the children_","Illya spoke in simple terms," and we think they are at Tenochtitlán looking for the remaining three. These men will use the power of these carvings to commit great evil and we must stop them. That is why we have these two heads, to protect them from the bad men."

"Señor EEl-ya, Tenochtitlán is considered a sacred place. No one from here would go there."

"These men do not respect that it is a sacred site, they are only concerned with using the heads to carry out their plans...I supposed if they succeeded, it would indeed be the end of the world in a way; as they would destroy a way of life for many good people in order to rule over them?"

"How can you stop them señor. Your friend is hurt and I think you are not well also? Perhaps I will bring the ñaozu tadi, the shaman, she is 'xe tatnaya', a healer. She will be able to rid you of your pains señores.

"No thank you," Napoleon said, "that really isn't necessary." He suddenly envisioned some sort of bizarre ritual being performed on them.

But Juan insisted, leaving them alone again in the hut.

A little boy peeked in through the door way, curious at seeing the strangers that looked so different from him.

"A kua'un," Illya smiled at the child, who hid his face, giggling, then looked in at them again, covering his smile with his hands.

Illya waved the child to come in and within minutes the little boy was sitting in the Russian's lap, sharing some food with him.

"You really do have a way with kids don't you?" Napoleon smiled," I never would have thought that when I first met you. You were as cold as ice and about as quiet as a church mouse."

"I suppose I have come a long way have I not?"the Russian smiled, "Napoleon, I will let you in on a little secret," he said lifting the boy from his lap with a grunt," Elliott and I are trying to have another child.""

"Now there's some news I don't mind hearing," he smiled," so when is the blessed event?"

"Unfortunately Elliott has not been able to get pregnant again...I am beginning to get a little concerned that it is me. Perhaps something that Dominique Morot and Dr. Blackman's venom may have done to me. If Elliott has not conceived this time; I think I will have to see Dr. Schneider and get myself checked?"

"You must be pretty worried to even consider that; knowing how much you hate doctors."

"Speaking of doctors...the healer or witchdoctor or whatever she is... we had best be careful Napoleon, these shamanistic people are known for the use of herbal applications, some of which have an hallucinogenic effect, such as peyote."

Juan returned with with an old woman wearing a large brightly colored feather head dress, she like Teysi Ñaña bore stylized tattoos and wore intricately carved pieces of jade hanging from her ears and around her wrists. He teeth...what were left of them had been filed to make them pointed. To someone who was a simple peasant; her appearance would have evoked awe and terror. Right now Napoleon wasn't feeling too comfortable about her either.

Teysi Ñaña lowered his head to the woman then took a few steps back from her.

This is Titua K'uku_Butterfly Woman." Juan said. " She is an elder of our tribe and a follower of the old ways. She will help you with your pain. Ndi ó koni_ you all will see. Her tata_medicine is strong. Juan bowed reverently as he stepped away from her.

"Ah...tee nikaanchi" she said looking at Illya.

"She calls you 'man of the sun.' Your yellow hair is a sign of the gods señor and a good omen, your eyes are chi'i...azul_blue. She says you were blessed by both the gods of the sky and the sea.

Illya smiled to her, nodding his head.

The woman dipped her thumb into a small dish of blue liquid, then proceeded to anoint the Russian's face with it, across his cheeks and chin.

Napoleon watched quietly bemused, trying to hide his smile as the woman painted the surly Russian; but his face remained expressionless as she went about her task.

Titua K'uku handed Illya a bowl of liquid,"ko'o," indicating he should drink from it...he had no choice but to comply. As hospitable as these native people had been so far; they could just as quickly turn hostile, having noted the obsidian tipped spears and knives they all carried when he and Napoleon first entered the village. He only hope it was not some sort of drug, and only herbs instead.

He took it from her swallowing only a small mouthful, glancing at his partner as he did so. It tasted more like colonche, an alcoholic drink made from the fruit of the prickly pear cactus.

"Yo ó...cha'ngi ndaiza d ii?" she held out her hands asking Illya for the two heads. He passed them to her reluctantly.

Then she held them both to her forehead muttering what sounded like prayers, then handed one back to him, then reached out putting her hand to his side exactly where his ribs were broken, how she knew that; he did not know.

She dug into a pouch at her side drawing out a metal rod; that she struck against the head in her hand causing the metal to resonate, then she did the same to the one Illya held in his hand. She held carving in her hand to Illya's injured side; at the same time he felt the one in his hand begin to become warm and the odd vibrating sensation that he felt before returned.

He closed his eyes as he felt a burning sensation fill his body, gritting his teeth as it intensified. Butterfly Woman droned, maintaining a single pitch to her chanting. It became louder and louder and the burning intensified in his side. And then she suddenly stopped; the burning gone instantly. The stone head in his hand was cool to the touch.

He took a deep breath, realizing that the pain in his side was gone as well!

"Napoleon, I do not know what this woman just did, but my pain is gone.?"

"What pain?"

"I did not tell you, my ribs were broken as well."

"Really, and you've been carrying me all along with busted ribs?" Napoleon sighed, as his partners selflessness, " Are you sure she just didn't slip you a mickey, something maybe to mask the pain?"

"Mickey?"

"Spiked the drink."

"I feel fine...nothing that seems like I have been drugged?"

"Tado dito," she nodded to Napoleon, holding the head out to him.

"She calls you Uncle to the Eagle señor," Juan said.

Napoleon raised his brows, surprised at the name she had given him...things were definitely getting weird.


	4. Chapter 4

Butterfly Woman began to reach towards Napoleon with the bowl of blue paint; dipping her fingers into it again, the sharpened teeth of the old woman smiling at him in a seemingly permanent feral grin.

"Oh no lady, you're not using me for a canvas," he said waving her off with his hand.

"Señor, it is not a good thing to do. Titua K'uko, is the last of the 'old ones' and is greatly revered. To refuse the help of a ñaozo tadi is to insult the gods...it is through them she has her powers.

"De coopérer au mieux ce qu'elle a fait n'a aide_best to cooperate," Illya whispered in French, "what she did helped me, though I do not understand how? And besides, I do not like the looks of the weapons these people carry...insulting her may unleash their wrath? Comprendre?

"Ouais, Je t'ai_yeah I got ya."

Solo looked at her cautiously, then reluctantly gave his nod for the woman to begin. She painted the same markings in the blue paint on his face, then gave him a drink of a liquid from a different bowl.

He made a face at the taste of it, as the woman tipped the bowl upwards; forcing him to swallow it all.

"Whoa wa was in tha sshtufff? his speech slurring instantly," Illya...I feel funny and you're gettin' all fuzzzzy."

The Russian looked at Butterfly Woman; worry evident in his eyes.

She had Teysi Ñaña help lower Napoleon down to lay on his stomach, stretching his hands out above his head, as he suddenly began to feel very dizzy, still wincing in pain as he lay down.

She touched him on his back, mysteriously knowing just where to go as she had with Illya. Running her fingers along Solo's spinal column; she stopped, exerting pressure with just two fingers, causing Napoleon to steel his jaw to stop himself from crying out in pain. She lifted his shirt, seeing a dark, swollen bruise in the middle of his lower back.

Butterfly Woman looked at Illya, seeing the concern in his eyes, then she reached for a large bowl containing a paste looking like it was made of red ochre.

"Ca'nu." she said to him.

"Señor, Titua K'uko says he is broken.

"Broken? Illya repeated, "His _back_ is broken?"

"I am not sure if that is what she means señor"

At that moment the woman pressed her hand to the bruise on Napoleon's back causing him to cry out.

"This is not good...maybe she should stop?" Illya asked.

"No señor once the xe tatnaya has begun taking away the ja-tkue_hurt, she cannot be interfered with...it will bring down the anger of the gods."

Illya suddenly stared at her with an obvious threat in his eyes. "Tell her that if she harms my friend in any way...I will call the thunder from the skies," he said putting his hand to his weapon. The sun god is my, ugh... true father and he will be very angry with her."

Juan repeated the Russian's words and Illya watched as the woman's eyes went wide. He wasn't sure if it was fear that he saw, or shock that he had dared to threaten her.

Titua K'uko placed her palm to her forehead, then bowed to him, acknowledging his words, apparently his threat worked; now it remained to be seen what she would do.

The woman reached for a second bowl, filled with red ochre, placing her hand into it; she touched her palm gently to the bruise on Solo's back, then on his side leaving the impression of a red hand print on his skin, as she uttered her incantations. The she placed some leaves in her mouth, chewing them, then laid the two heads on Napoleon's back; striking them each with the metal rod.

She suddenly spit what she was chewing onto Solo's back then began her monotone chanting, matching the tone of the ringing of the metal rod with her voice.

Napoleon suddenly reached out, grabbing Illya's arm; moaning in pain as the stone heads began to burn. Illya took hold of his partner's hand, letting him squeeze it as he cried out a second time. He bit his lip, wondering if he had done the right thing by permitting the ritual as Napoleon had injuries far more severe than he.

It went on for at least a half hour, until Napoleon passed out, and Titua K'uko collapsed to the floor, speaking softly to Illya.

"She said it is done and to let 'Uncle to the Eagle' sleep now." Juan translated for her.

Titua K'uko pulled herself up from the floor beside Napoleon, then bowed weakly to Illya calling him " Tee Kwaa, la Nicandi n daiza te'i."

"Ah señor, she calls you 'Golden Man', son of La Nicandi, the sun god."

Illya chuckled to himself at the name; amused that his bluff had worked. He remained there with Napoleon as the others left him, still holding his partner's hand, then when finally alone he whispered a short prayer in Russian.

"Dorogoy Bog, pozhaluista, pust' an butet v paryadke_please God, let him be alright? Through Your grace; let him be healed?"

Juan stuck his head inside the door of the hut a short while later beckoning Illya to come with him. "Señor, the people of the village have prepared a feast for you. The son of a god must be honored.

"Juan I need to stay with my friend."

"Please Tee Kwaa, the people will be very disappointed if you do not come for at least a short while?" Por favor señor?

"Alright...Yodzo Coo," Illya said using the man's native name," but just for a little bit."

'Gracias Tee Kwaa."

Illya followed Juan out to the center of the small village, where a large fire had been lit; the aroma a fair sized boar roasting in the flames assaulted Kuryakin's senses and made him instantly hungry again.

As soon as he appeared, the resonant rhythm of drums began accompanied by the warm sound of wood flutes sounding out a melody, joined with what looked like pan-pipes. The people began to chant, singing in time with the drums, and a few began a shuffling dance; their figures silhouetted against the bonfire as they circled it.

Insects filled the air, and hundreds of bright orange mariposa monarca butterflies landed everywhere, nesting on their journey to hibernate in the Oyamel fir trees in central Mexico.

Women approached the Russian, bowing reverently then giggling as they placed a large collar of yellow feathers around his neck, but when they attempted to pull off his shirt to paint his body, he waved them off; not angrily, but with enough emotion to let them know that he was not pleased.

Then they approached him with an ornate head piece, banded with jade and made of bright parrot and long bird of paradise feathers. He finally permitted them to place it on him; their pouting faces softened his discomfort at a situation that was of his own making. Then as a final touch, a cape of jaguar pelts was draped over his shoulders.

One of them bowed in front of him handing him a bowl of yellow-brown liquid. He sniffed it then took a little taste...he recognized it; corn beer, then smiled taking a hearty drink from the bowl, then passed it to Teysi Ñaña sitting to his right, as he guessed was the custom.

This went on for quite some time; the passing of beer and then finally bowls containing the roast pork in a dark sauce made with cacao all the while Illya had to fight off the attentions of a few of the younger, quite attractive women.

"Juan, please thank them, but my wife... with red hair the color of fire a and temper to match would not be pleased if I were to stray into another woman's arms? We all know how much damage fire can do enh?"

Juan laughed, then told the women Tee Kwaa was married, calling Elliott, "t kwe'e ñu'u ña v'i...red fire wife."

"Mmmm, trying out a new look?" Illya heard his partner laughing from behind him.

"Napoleon!" Illya grinned, feeling relaxed from the affects of the very potent beer."

"I told them I was the son of the sssun...hey you are standin' by yourself!" he suddenly realized," you alright?"

Illya gathered himself, looking at his partner carefully.

"Napoleon, are you feeling any pain...that woman Titua K'oku said you were 'broken'? I was afraid it was a broken back."

"Well tovarisch, you were right. I don't know what she did but the pain is gone and I can move fine?" he said sitting down on the mat next to his partner. Teysi Ñaña passed him a bowl of the beer.

"What is it?"he whispered.

"Beer...not bad actually."

"You know I could go for a drink right now, after the past couple of days we've had?" He took a sip of the foamy liquid from the bowl, then finding it an interesting flavor; he took another long swallow.

"You're right, not bad at all?"he smiled.

"Juan, tell the people that this is my brother, 'Uncle to the Eagle,' "Illya smiled wryly. The next thing Solo knew he was being painted and bedecked with a feather head dress and a short feather cape."

"Thanks a lot." elbowed his partner.

"Do not insult them" Illya reminded him; smiling as he passed the roast pork and another bowl of beer to Solo," they think you are my Uncle and I am the son of the sun god."

Napoleon laughed heartily at that..."So what's is this beer made of?"

"Oh it a very interesting process by which it is made, you see they take maize...a variety of corn which is chewed then spit into a bowl. You see the natural enzymes in the mouth aid in converting the starch in the corn into fermentable sugars. The mash is then boiled and let to ferment..."

"You _had_ to tell me that?" Napoleon said, as he now passed on the beer that was being offered to him.

"The fermentation kills any bacteria, what is the problem?" Illya said unconcerned.

The festivities concluded and the two agents were seen back to their hut for a well needed rest. The next morning Teysi Ñaña had agreed to show them the way to Tenochtitlán, by Juan's reckoning was only seven miles or so away; Illya guessing that it would take them a good four hours or so to reach it traveling through the forest.

They rose early the next morning, thanking Titua K'uko for her help. Illya entrusted her with the care of the the two stone heads. Telling her they belonged to the 'people of the clouds' and she being the last, should have them.

She handed them a small earthenware jar; Juan telling them it was a wash made from the agave plant, and to put it on to ward off the mosquitoes, as their journey would take them into the hot swampy lowlands in the foot hills of where they assumed was Sierra Madre; the place where Tenochtitlán stood.

"Kik tab'o," Illya said, thanking them all for their welcome." Nak i zucu_ I travel beyond the hill now," he said formally to indicate he and Napoleon would be leaving.

The area they sought to find was part of collection archaeological sites called San Lorenzo, Tenochtitlán being the farthest of them, and was usually an active site, but Illya was almost sure that Dr. Diel who was the current archaeologist working there would be done with his diggings by this time of the year, as the rainy season was soon to begin.

Teysi would take them no farther than the edge of the forest when they finally reached the open space that was Tenochtitlán; he said his farewells then faded back into the jungle like the mist that rose from it.

Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin were back in the real world; drawing their weapons as they saw the small wooden houses that had been built around the open plaza.

This was very different from El Azuzul; there stood a tall pyramid. Here there were only raised several man-made hillocks, scattered around them were the immense Olmec heads with their cold gaze cast out over the land. The ground was covered with thousands of small black bead, hole cut into them by ancient hands, but for what use they were; no one knew.

The agents decided to split up to check the houses for occupants; agreeing to meet by the largest head that stood near a single mound with a raised altar stone at it's top.

"Fifteen minutes?" Napoleon whispered as Illya acknowledged, disappearing quickly from his partner's view.

A few minutes later as Solo carefully opened the door to the first shelter that he approached...that was the last thing he remembered.

Napoleon woke with a moan. his hands tied as he was suspended from a beam in one of the small houses.

"It is about time you woke up" he heard Illya say.

He looked beside him, seeing the Russian dangling from the beam as well.

"So what have you been up to?"

"Oh just hanging around waiting for you," Illya said dryly," you are not going to believe who is here?"

"Enlighten me please?" Napoleon said, as he tried to swing his legs up to the beam.

"No good," Illya said," I already tried and it is..."

"Why Mr. Solo...so good of you to join us," he heard the very familiar, effete British accent.

"Why G. Emory Partridge, fancy meeting you here." Napoleon sighed.

"Quite...dear chap."


	5. Chapter 5

Emory Partridge stood facing Solo and Kuryakin, as they dangled helplessly in front of him; he was flanked by two tattoed, and ornately garbed natives. He as usual was dressed impeccably; looking very much the British squire and Solo was amazed that given the extreme heat and humidity; the man looked a cool as the proverbial cucumber.

"Don't you gentlemen every tire of hounding me...I assure you it does become ever so tedious from my perspective. Here I am minding my own business in my own little piece of paradise and again U.N.C.L.E. has to come nosing about, just when life seems as though it is it is finally progressing the way I wish it to...?"

"You mean someone else's paradise that you are trying to make your own...still trying to recreate East Snout where ever you go I presume?"Napoleon sniped at him sharply.

Partridge smiled."Yes, one does tend to gravitate to the familiar."

"And of course your recent collaboration with Thrush... they are the ones financing your latest endeavour; disrupting the communications network?"

"Oh dear dear, so you do know about that...I had feared as much when I had heard of the presence of two white men; one of them with hair the color of the sun were at El Azuzul. Where I suppose you took possession of the last two Olmec heads, didn't you?"

"Heads, what heads?"

"Come now sir, games are so beneath you. You know jolly well what I am talking about." Partridge clicked his tongue, "I suppose I shall have to do something dreadful to remedy your lack of cooperation...I do so miss my dear Edith at times like this. She was so much better at extracting information than I am. I shall be forced to do something with you and that insipid Russian cohort of yours."

"Excuse me?" Illya said somewhat annoyed that he was being spoken about as if he weren't there, " may I remind you; I am right here?"

"Trust me Mr. Kuryakin, I am well aware of your presence. You sir are an perennial gadfly that needs to be swatted without an afterthought...Mr. Solo, unlike you, at least possesses some semblance of gentlemanly decorum and behaviour."

"Glad to have been a bother to you," the Russian smiled," just free me and I will show you how gentlemanly I can be when I kill you...mercifully."

"Now Mr. Kuryakin, the killing will all be done in good time but I will not be the one on the receiving end I'm afraid. Now enough of this nonsensical banter." he smiled, then ordered his men to take Solo down, speaking in a tongue that sounded similar to that which Teysi Ñaña spoke. Napoleon guessed something was being said about Illya when both the natives looked directly at the Russian.

Napoleon glanced back at his partner as he was lead out; wondering what exactly Emory Partridge had in mind for the two of them as they escorted him to a small house not far away. And once inside, Napoleon's presumptions about Partridge proved correct; the interior was decorated just as if it were a manor house back in England. How Partridge had managed to get it all here to the interior of southern Mexico was an complete enigma.

Partridge had Solo's hands freed, then offered him a snifter of brandy; treating him as if he were an honored guest or to say the least, an honored enemy.

"Please Mr. Solo may we dispense with all the usual word games. You have something that I need; so please tell me where you have hidden the artifacts?"

"Sorry that is something that I am not at liberty to discuss," Napoleon smiled.

"Your stubbornness is most disconcerting. Well now, perhaps after a nice luncheon you might change your mind; never good to make a hasty decision on an empty stomach.

Partridge had Napoleon escorted to the washroom to be cleaned up and given a fresh change of clothing.

"That's much better," Emory pronounced as Solo was brought into the dining area, dressed in a light suit and tie.

Napoleon was seated at the table, being served a bowl of cold vichyssoise, followed by a poached white fish with an avocado and lemon and fresh fruit . A manservant poured him a glass of white Bordeaux.

"I must say, you amaze me at how you are able to do this in the most remote of locations..._again_ and _again_. There seems to be a bit of a pattern to all this, or haven't you noticed?"

"Pattern, my dear man? Whatever are you talking about?"

"Each one of your attempts...your endeavors has ended in failure. You go on, rebuild your little piece of East Snout over and over...failing every time."

"I do not fail!" Partridge momentarily lost his usual composure, " It is your interference that simply causes a disruption of my plans..."

Napoleon smiled at his hosts annoyance. "And we will continue to disrupt your plans until we end them permanently."

"Ah threats will get you nowhere, Mr. Solo." Partridge snapped his fingers and the guards grabbed the American, binding his hands in front of him again.

The took him out to the plaza to a hillock with a brightly painted altar stone at it's top, several of the monolithic Olmec heads stood at the base of the hill; gazing out, facing in a north-south direction. At the base of the altar lay a bound man beside a fire; his body painted and marked. The six smaller heads surrounded the altar facing outwards, staring at their larger counterparts.

Partridge arrived behind Solo wearing an immense feather headdress and feathered cape; a leashed jaguar at his side. They were accompanied by a man wearing a jade jaguar mask, bedecked in feathers and animal skins.

A half dozen natives; their faces painted blue and covered in ash approached, brandishing obsidian tipped spears; carrying the bodies of dead birds and small mammals that must have been sacrificed.

"I suppose your are wondering about all the mumbo-jumbo" Partridge said.

"It had crossed my mind," eyeing the man's attire," a little ostentatious for you isn't it?" quipped Napoleon.

"Ah, I am simply giving these people back their belief systems...and for honoring their ways I have been given access to their sacred sites. The archaeologists have no idea of the riches these people have been hiding from them. They have honored me as a shaman; I being able to harness the power of the stones...in part. They believe through me; the Olmec people will return to their life of greatness."

"You see Mr. Solo there is something called ilmenite...FdTiO3 to be precise, a natural ore for titanium...contained in the statuary, the great heads are laced with it in large quantities, the small heads nearly pure. Ilmenite helps generate sound waves and with this device," Partridge held up something the size of a shoebox," I can boost my signals, multiplying them a hundred fold allowing me to control all communications, disrupting it at will...but it has only been possible with the legendary "sons of the stars" being present; they seem to be the catalyst to triggering the power of the the ilmenite."

"There is apparently truth in the ancient legend behind the stones. And through their power I, with the aide of TH.R.U.S.H. will be able to control the world...once I have all eight of the 'ndaiza d ii chan'ngi'; nothing will be able to stop us. I _will_ be the master of my domain...my paradise as it were."

"Watch Mr. Solo as we give obeisance to their tribal gods...we honor them, as we are honored with the power of the stones!"

The prisoner laying at the base of the stone was lifted to the altar, as Napoleon studied it closer and to his dismay; he realized that the garish decorations were depictions of people being beheaded and devoured by a great snake. They pulled the man's hands pulled above his head as he lay on his back; his eyes wide with fear as his painted body trembled.

"Hear me O great gods," Partridge intoned," We come to offer sacrifice to ask you to release the power of the stones that we may raise the people of the clouds back to the glory for which they were meant."

He handed the jaguar-masked priest the long spine of a stingray; the man proceeding to pierce his skin with it. His eyes remained expressionless as he drew blood from his arms and chest, draining it in to a small clay cup filled with a clear liquid. He then poured it into the fire, sending up clouds of steam and acrid smoke encircling the altar as he chanted; joined by the other men in a chorus of unfamiliar words. Then Napoleon suddenly recognized one word... 'moku'_death." He struggled, trying to free himself of his guards hold, thinking he could some how stop this travesty.

The ña d u no dutu_priest drew a long black blade from the sheath at his waist; raising it above the terrified man's chest as the chanting quickened. Then with a mighty downward thrust; the dagger was driven into the victim's chest. Then the man's head was severed and raised for all to see before it was tossed down to the monolith at the base of the hill.

"Partridge! You've gone too far this time! You're stark raving mad!" Napoleon barked at him.

"I think not Mr. Solo? I want those last two heads!"

"No."

"Fine then...you have brought this on then and will only have yourself to blame."

Partridge called out to his men and a pair of them disappeared down the hill, returning within a few minutes with a struggling Russian being dragged up the hill between them. Illya had been stripped and was now barely clothed in a simple loin cloth; his body and face painted in orange ochre, mystical symbols on his chest and black spots marked all over him; making his skin look like that of a jaguar.

His hands were bound in front of him as they lifted Illya to the altar stone.

"DO NOT DO IT NAPOLEON!"Do not tell them where the stones are!" He cried out as he squirmed, trying to free himself as they pulled his hands above his head, as he too was forced to lie on his back on bloody altar.

The chanting began again as the ceremony commenced...this time Napoleon felt the bile rising in his throat as he began to panic...he couldn't let Illya die!"Oh God no!" he moaned, readly to give Partridge what he wanted.

Kuryakin looked up at the blue sky, thinking perhaps it was for the last time. His thoughts went instantly to Elliott, Demya and pehaps a new baby that he would never live to see. "Ya lyublyu tebya...Anya moya lubimaya_I love you Anya, my beloved," he whispered preparing himself; praying, "_please _let it be your will God that I will see my family again in heaven someday."

He suddenly relaxed, feeling at peace as he resigned himself to death; then he looked up a the sun and that was when he saw it; perhaps no one else did as they were engrossed in the ceremony.

"STOP!" Illya yelled in their language " I am _Tee Kwaa_, the Golden Man and ndaiza d'i La Nicandi _son of the god La Nicandi, B'a-la-ma_jaguar god is my brother! They will be angry if you try to harm me. See my scars; I have fought many battles and I am strong; you will feel my vengeance! I call upon my father La Nicandi to blot out the sun as a warning to you!"

"Nikaancha_sun!" They called out in panic, looking up at it.

"Zikanzi sa'tan jen de zoo!" Their words for a solar eclipse," and watched in fear as the shadow of the moon began to cover the sun.

Their terror was all the distraction the Russian needed as he pulled his hands free; grabbing the long glass knife from the hands of the priest. Illya kicked up with his legs, jumping from the altar; slashing the priest across the chest with the blade. He bounded down the hill dropping into a roll then pushing up into a dead run, heading straight towards the jungle as spears began launch, stabbing into the ground all around him; one hitting him with a glancing blow to his thigh, just as he disappeared into the waiting arms of the forest.

Napoleon grinned at Partridge, not saying a word to him; the man quite annoyed at the disruption to his plans.

"That man does not even have the decency to die when he is supposed to...after him!" he ordered his men.

The six men took off; running down the hill after Kuryakin; whooping their cries of pursuit as they followed him into the steamy jungle.


	6. Chapter 6

Napoleon tried pulling away from his guards but their vice-like grip on his biceps dug deeply into his muscles holding him painfully in place between them.

"We proceed irregardless...one sacrifce will be sufficient to satisfy our indigenous friends for now," Partridge placidly announced as he opened his device, revealing a small control panel. He flicked a switch, with a red light now blinking slowly on and off indicating the machine was activated. "This is just a small prototype. Once I have finished testing it, I will develop a larger version and then the world will be at my mercy; to remake into a more orderly, civilized place. Perhaps a global East Snout?" he laughed. "Observe and understand true power Mr. Solo, and you will stand in awe of it!"

Emory Partridge pulled a black dagger from a sheath at his side, this was not the black of obsidian glass but a dark metal, Solo guessed, ilmenite; it reminded him of the metal rod used in the ritual by Titua K'uku to heal he and Illya.

Partridge struck the blade on the side of the altar stone, then as it began to vibrate and ring out; he touched the pommel of the knife to one of the small heads. A loud hum began to resonate as all the smaller heads began to vibrate one after the other.

The sounds of the jungle...the multitudes of bird and animal calls, insects, frogs went silent. There was an eerie silent emptiness in the air as the black ilmenite-iron ore beads strewn atop the hill and across the plaza below, began to move; making them seem as though they had come to life; dancing to music that only they heard.

The hum increased in strength until Solo began to wince at at it's intensity. He watched as suddenly the eyes of the monoliths turned dark as they too looked as if they had awakend.

"I guarantee you Mr. Solo, all forms of electronic communications have been completely disrupted across most of the United States and all of Mexico...now I am asking you politely for the last time. Where are the artifacts?"

"Go to hell you sick bastard."

Partridge touched the handle of the ilmenite blade to Solo's skull, just behing his ear and watched as Napoleon's eyes rolled back, his body collapsing into the arms of his guards. He was awake and aware, but could barely move.

"You disappoint me Mr. Solo with such vulgar language;

I thought you were a man of breeding." Partridge shook his head." Take him to the cave...we'll need to take further measures with him then. And you can rest assure that Mr. Kuryakin is as good as dead." he added as Napoleon was dragged back down the hill.

"My men never come back empty handed, killing a man will give them his a nahual, his animal spirit and his power. And I assure you, given the credentials that Mr. Kuryakin has fabricated for himself, my men wil be quite relentless in their hunt for his blood and will have his head as their trophy."

"Mr. Waverly?" Lisa Rogers called as she rushed into the conference room. "Communications is going crazy sir. They say everything is..."

"Put them on screen Miss Rogers.

"My God, Mr. Waverly, things are going wild! There is catostrophic failure across the board!" George spoke with an obvious strain to his voice.

"Mr. Dennell, please calm yourself and give me the details?"

"Sorry sir," he apologized as he pushed his black rimmed glassed back up on the bridge of his nose, "it's just that everything from the west coast, all the way over to Iowa, Missouri, Arkansas, Louisiana and now, oh my gosh, parts of Florida are out! Sir, the grid failure is cascading farther then ever...looks like all of Mexico is out now too? This is really bad Mr. Waverly; I'm not sure if the central and northeast U.S. could go down soon? All of our defence systems will be useless without communications..."

"That is an understatement to say the least. Waverly Out. Miss Rogers get me security, and I need to speak to the the White house, as well as the Secretary General of the United Nations...oh and yes, get me the Mayor's office also?"

"Right away Mr. Waverly," a moment later," yes sir, I have the President on your private line."

"Alex, this is a rare phone call? What can I do for you folks at U.N.C.L.E.?" the man's voice was thick with a Texas drawl.

"Yes, Mr. President, the communications grid is continuing to fail...and it is expanding to dangerous parameters. Sir, there may be a need to bring the military to alert, at least the national guard. There is a growing sense of panic among the populace as there have been isolated incidents of looting and destruction. That I am afraid will probably grow once the undesirable element begins to seize upon the oportunities that are being created. The east coast has not been affected yet, but I fear it will be soon, once that happens; chaos will erupt...leaving your country wide open for potential disaster."

"Understood Alexander...I will begin to ready the troops."

Illya dodged his way through the jungle, fighting off the pain of the bloody gash in his thigh, along with discomfort of running barefoot on the rough ground strewn with natural debris; trying to stay aware of every place he was about to step as there would be snakes and other deadly creatures lurking along the jungle floor as well.

Though he was moving quickly, listening for sounds of his pursuers, he realized everything had suddenly become deathly quiet; he stopped, sensing an odd vibration in the air that made his skin crawl, then cocked his head as his hearing detected a low-level hum.

Illya leaned back against a large tree, propping the knife between his knees to hold it in place while he cut the ropes binding his wrists then, when he took a step forward after freeing himself; he bit his lip, forcing himself not to cry out as he had stepped on something sharp. He hobbled for a moment, favoring the foot; leaning back against the tree as he pulled a long thorn from his his arch. "Proklyat'e_damnation!" he cursed under his breath at his misfortune.

He could hear them coming now as they bounded through the jungle...he had to think quickly; casting his gaze to the tree branches above him. Illya climbed nimbly like a cat, nestling himself among the multicolor leaves; his body paint and markings helping him to blend in as they camouflaged his presence.

Five men approached, stopping beneath his hiding place; as they spotted the blood from his foot on the ground. Illya suddenly hoped there was none of it visible on the tree where he had just climbed up.

There was some discussion among the men, then pointing with their spears; they took off. As soon as they were out of earshot, he climbed down; intending to double back to Tenochtitlán, free Napoleon and get the stone heads away from Partridge.

Illya lowered himself down from the tree, favoring his foot just a little as he turned, coming face to face with one of tattooed natives who had been chasing after him. The man must have separated himself from the the group.

He grinned at Kuryakin with his sharpened teeth stained black. He wore heavy pieces of jade hung through holes in his earlobes that had been stretched low from their weight and his head partially shaved with the remainder of his hair braided with bone and stingray spines. Like the Russian, he was clothed in a simple homespun loin cloth.

"I will take your a nahual and your head, Tee Kwaa n dauz te'i la Nicandi, then I will possess the power of the n tachii_ heavens!"

The man pounded his fist to his chest. " Kakpe Ku_Scorpion Hand will be a great warrrior among the people, perhaps a new king. I will take your jama_animal guise as part of my own. You run and climb like the jaguar...so I will become B'a-la-ma Kakpe Ku_Jaguar god Scorpion Hand!"

"Nye, koni nixi_no, you will see yourself die." Illya said calmly as he threw his knife. It landed squarely in Scorpion Hand's chest, sending the man staggering backwards with a look a shock in his eyes. He let out a blood-curdling cry before he fell down to the ground.

Illya pulled the knife from his chest, then grabbing Scorpion Hand's short blow gun and pouch containing thorns, probably tipped with poison from one of the more deadly species of agave plant or secretions from a poisonous reptile. Illya limped off quickly; knowing that the man's call had alerted the others.

A few minutes later he could hear them, this time coming at him from different directions; he picked up his pace, ignoring the pain in his foot and leg; then climbing another tree, he waited; readying the dart gun.

Two of appeared from among the trees and as they passed where Illya crouched hidden, he blew the dart gun hitting him with one, then another thorn. The man grabbed his shoulder where he was struck, pulling the offending barb from his skin. He staggered sideways, then collapsed.

The other man turned, seeing his companion missing; doubled back finding him dead on the ground. Illya sent two more deadly thorns out from the dart gun; hitting him sqarely in the chest...he too stagged and fell dead.

Illya dropped from the tree, abandoning the blow dart as there were no more thorns left in the pouch, then took off. He heard the screams of his remaining pursuers as they found the bodies of the others.

Kuryakin was breathing heavily as his heart pounded; the heat and the steaming humidity draining his energy level that was powered by pure adreniline. He could feel his body beginning to shake as the fright or flight response had kicked in.

At least he had lowered the odds dramatically, now only being three against one but he was running out of defense options. He could hear them coming at him as they surrounded his position and the Russian hunched over, planting his feet firmly in the ground, as his senses at heighted awareness waited for them to strike at him...he prayed they did not have more dart guns.

Suddenly one man dove out of no where, driving straight into the agent; knocking him to the ground. Illya grabbed hold of the mans wrist, holding it back as he tried to drive a knife down into the Russian's chest. Kuryakin drove his leg up sharply between the mans legs and as the man yelped in pain Illya pushed him from his chest, driving his own knife into the man's throat.

Suddenly from the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of movement as a jaguar charged from the jungle leaping on top of one of the remaining two hunters, ripping at his face and neck.

The last man charged at Illya raising his spear, but Kuryakin was lying on the ground in a defenseless position, with no where to roll for cover; his knife still in the throat of his assailant and out of reach.

Illya's attacker froze in front of him...a flower of blood, ha ñeñe in his language, appeared in the middle of his breast appeared as a spear drove through his back, exiting his chest.

"Teysi Ñaña!" Illya called to his friend, "niku tav'i_thank you for saving my life!"

Jaguar Claw knelt, examining the wound on Illya's thigh, then quickly applied a slimy poultice of sávil and arnica, then tied a banana leaf to cover it with a thin piece of vine, then helped the Russian to his feet.

"Tee Kwaa," he said, "I have thought much of Tenochtitlán. You and your friend Tado Dito have shown great respect to our people. The knowledge, kijpwu_ shone with me, that you have been sent on a journey by the gods. This is a good journey and I will help you on it, pun wu_noble one."

"Teysi...I am no god, though in my country, my family once was noble. But I am a man just like you. Mu k kum uaj_ from another world far from here but not ndaiza d i_ heaven, but a land far away. I will accept your help as there is a very evil man who is misusing the power of the cha'ngi ndaiza d ii and he must be stopped"

Teysi Ñaña and Illya Kuryakin crossed their arms in friendship, then headed back through the jungle back in he direction of Tenochtitlán; the Russian momentarily wondering where the jaguar had gone.


	7. Chapter 7

Napoleon staggered, clumsily falling to his knees as they shoved him down the narrow passage way, It was small and frightenly claustrophobic; the darkness lit only by the torches held in his captors hands.

Stalgmites and stalagtites dripping with water lined the walls, crawling with spiders, millipedes and lizards; all scuttling in retreat from the light of the torches as the men moved through the dark tunnel.

The finally arrived in a cavern deep underground; in it's center a tall carved statue of a stylized winged serpent, it's mouth raised upwards with a pair of stone legs sticking out of the gaping mouth.

It looked the same as the carvings on the altar stone on the mound; painted in bright red, blues greens and yellows. The colors seemed to change in the surreal dancing light of a half dozen torches lodged in the walls encompassing the chamber.

On the ground encircling the statue where eight small headless figures, portrayed as rather paunchy human children, but with markings that made them look part jaguar; Solo guessing that these statues were where the carved heads belonged.

As Napoleon glanced up; he saw the ceiling was decorated with hundreds of star glyphs that seemed to glitter in the firelight as his captors tied him to a heavy pole beside the snake statue.

Partridge entered the chamber in silence accompanied by the the wounded Jaguar-Priest who handed him an earthen ware bowl, as he chanted in a monotone voice that echoed throughout the cavern.

"Welcome to the Underworld Mr. Solo," Partridge finally whispered." it's a marvelously eerie place down here...imagine the primitive thoughts that passed through the simple minds that were brought down here for their endlessly tortuous rituals. My Edith would have so adored this place," his voice trailed as he seemed to be musing about his late wife until he returned his attention to Napoleon...

"They call it the the cave of fear you know. And I am sure here my dear fellow, you will indeed learn the meaning of that word."

"eeeeww, you're giving me chills. So is this the part where you're going to interrogate me?"

"Oh no dear chap, not an interrogation...but you will eventually answer the one question that I have been asking you _ad nauseum_. As a matter of fact, when we are done with you...you will be begging to tell me what I want to know."

Solo kept his composure, quoting from "The Count of Monte Cristo" in reply, "Life is a storm. You bask in the sunlight one moment, to be shattered on the rocks the next...do your worst, for I will do mine." he smiled confidently.

"Ah, but unlike Edmond Dantes, you will not succeed Mr. Solo."

One of the men grabbed Napoleon by the hair, jerking his head back, trying to force open Solo's mouth with his hand. Napoleon struggled to keep it shut tight until Jaguar-priest hit him several times with a small cugel. They held his head back again; forcing his jaw open, then pouring the contents from the bowl into his mouth, then held it closed until he was forced to swallow.

They released his head and Solo shook it at first not feeling any affects from what he assumed was a drug of some sort. He blinked is eyes several times until slowly things began to go out of focus...then as the images blurred, sparkling lights and kaledescopic-like colors invaded his field of vision.

The room began to spin, then a tingling, burning sensation began crawling up in his legs, working its way up though his genitals, his stomach, chest, his neck then finally he felt a sharp stabbing pain in his head and he cried out.

Then he saw it...the snake statue coming to life; swallowing it's stony victim, then turning to face him with it's irridescent green eyes. It moved so close to him that he could smell it's stinking breath; wreaking of death and rotting flesh from it's fanged mouth.

Napoleon turned his face, closing his eyes; trying to remind himself it wasn't real. "It's just a drug induced hallucination." he said. "But why was the terrible smell still there?"

The snake slithered away from him, arching it's body straight, then turning it's mouth upwards; it began spewing water from it's mouth like a giant fountain. It's wings flapped churning the water, creating waves as though it was an ocean as the chamber began to flood, The waters quickly rose to the level of Solo's knees.

Napoleon jerked at his bindings, still tight as he strained to free himself. The water had quickly moved up to his hips, as fear began to fill him just as Partridge had predicted.

Napoleon Solo had always been afraid of the water, though he would sail with delight on his boat "The Independence;" it was being down in the water that he dreaded, and now his worst nightmare was becoming a reality; drowning.

His eyes widened and he began to tremble as the water level passed his chest, quickly rising up to his chin. He couldn't believe that Partridge was just going to let him drown, but fear turned into terror as water covered his mouth, his nose. He began to suffocate as he finally broke; his voice gurgling in the water.

He called out Titua K'uku's name, praying that Partridge would hear him and rescue him. "She has them! Please stop, get me out of the water please, don't let me drown!"

"Yes, I told you would learn the meaning of fear," Partridge smiled sadistically, as he watched the agent shake, gasping and sputtering for air; caught in his delusion, not even hearing Partridge speak.

"Namque nullum peis macerat humanum quamde mare saevum; vires cui sunt magnae topper confringent inportunae undae..." Partridge quoted the words of the of the Roman Livius Andronicus, "For there is no worse torment for a man than a cruel sea; even if he has great strength, it will soon be broken by the wild waves."

Emory gazed upwards with a look of satisfaction. "Oh Edith are you not proud of me? I outwitted the _great _Napoleon Solo at last."

"Ikna Titua K'uku_ who is this Butterfly Woman?" Partridge asked, turning to his high priest.

"Titua K'uku," said Jaguar-Priest, " is ñaozu tadi xe tatnaya_ a shaman and healer, This woman is very powerful. She is one of the old ones."

"And you know where this Titua K'uku creature lives?"

"She is in a village in the jungle beyond the marshes but a few hours from here."

"Good..we'll take the lorry. We will go in search of her and relieve her of the remaining sons of the stars."

Partridge smiled, "Take Mr. Solo to the altar. I think another offering to the great devourer is in order; to give thanks for his help."

"D u, ñzozu tadi_ yes shaman," bowed Jaguar-Priest.

Napoleon fell weakly into the arm of the guards as they released him from the ropes. His ordeal had momentarily sapped him of his strength as suffering the shock of a great fear would. But the effects of the drug were wearing off as he regained his wits as he was coming out of his drug-induced stupor.

Solo was aware of his surroundings and now was feighning his incapacitation. He was angry with himself for having been duped into revealing the information that Partridge wanted so badly, but what was done, was done. He sighed as his thoughts went to Illya; hoping that his partner was still alive and that he might have made it back to Teysi Ñaña to bring help to stop Partridge before he could do any further harm. It was time to recoup, regroup and outwit Partridge, that was is _if_ Illya showed up and in time.

Teysi Ñaña and Illya arrived at the village, both knowing they could not stop Partridge without help. Teysi spoke with authority as he urged the men to join him on their quest.

"Uncle of the Eagle is in great danger," Illya spoke," a false shaman tried to offer me up in sacrifice but I escaped. I fear he will harm my friend and force him to reveal where the two cha'ngi ndaiza d ii are hidden. This will put your people in great danger. We must save Uncle to the Eagle and take back what belongs to the people of the clouds before more bad things are done with the cha'ngi ndaiza d ii!"

Titua K'uku raised her hands above her, holding the stone heads for all to see. "Cha'ngi ndaiza d ii" belong to the people...we will take them back from this false ñaizy tadi!"

The men and women of the village raised their voices; shouting and shrieking their battle cries as they gathered their weapons, following Teysi Ñaña and Tee Kwaa to Tenochtitlán.

Though no matter how much Illya begged, Titua K'uku insisted upon accompanying them, bringing the sons of the stars with her.

They immerged from the jungle hours later just as Napoleon was being dragged up the hillock again, he too had been stripped and dressed in a loincloth, his skin painted in the garish red ocher for the ritual.

'They're going to sacrifice him!" Illya hissed.

Teysi Ñaña let out a war whoop charging forward with his people, with Illya running after them. Partridge's men raced down the hill, rushing at their attackers; leaving Solo alone with Partridge and Jaguar-Priest.

Partridge drew the black ilmenite blade, striking it against the altar, then touching it to several of the heads. The black pebbles began to vibrate and instead of a low rising hum, a high pitched sound began to emanate from the the heads almost as if they were screaming.

Partridge laughed as the men battling below the hill grabbed their heads, falling to their knees. Napoleon staggered from the sound, then suddenly kicked up with his foot, knocking he black dagger from Partridge's hand, sending it flying down the hill before he could touch it to another of the heads.

Titua K'uku walked up the hill, seemingly unaffected by the high pitched sounds emanating from the stone heads surrounding the altar stone.

She called upon the powers of nature, raising the two heads above her in her hands. "Tachi vico dau nickaach, zoo, ch yuu ndute! Air cloud rain sun moon, mountain stone water! Brothers I call upon the n- tachi_heavens!

Vexi_come!"

Suddenly thousand upon thousands of Monarch butterflies appeared, landing everywhere. Titua K'uku threw the two heads to the ground, joining their six brothers in the circle. They began to float, rising up from the the ground, above the heads of those standing by the altar.

Napoleon's instincts told him that it was was time to make a hasty exit; throwing himself, rolling down the hill.

The butterflies all flew to the top of the hillock, The eight cha'ngi ndaiza d ii begin to spin, creating a vortex as the countless orange butterflies spun round and round as Tatua K'uku waved her arms in a circular motion, enveloping Partridge and Jaguar-Priest in a maelstrom of orange.

Tatua K'uku pointed at the cloudless sky shouting loudly,"CHA'NGI!"

A bolt of lightning shot jaggedly into the center of the vortex, striking the altar stone, cleaving it in two. Then just as abruptly, the wind ceased and the 'sons of the stars' dropped to the ground in silence. The butterflies fluttered away delicately; disappearing into the jungle.

"X-ti i ne w-ji_ now things have been set back to order," Titua K'uku proclaimed.

Emory Partridge and and Jaguar-Priest were gone...there was no sign of them on the hill top.

Partridge's men ran off in fear, fleeing into the jungle; leaving Teysi Ñaña and his people there on the plaza. Luckily no one had been killed, though there were a few minor injuries.

Illya walked over to where his partner lay at the base of the hill, a bit stunned from his toppling down; he knelt, cutting Napoleon's bindings then offered his hand, pulling him up from the ground.

They eyed each other in their state of near nudity. "Nice outfit," Illya smiled.

"You too," Napoleon said, " but I think the body paint is a little over the top wouldn't you say?" Then the two agents burst out laughing.

"Where did they go?" Illya turned, asking Titua K'uku.

"The gods have taken them to do with them as they will...vexi_ come, we go home now."

Solo and Kuryakin raided Partridge's domecile for some clothing, then set it ablaze, destroying all traces of it as well as the sound amplifying device.

They gathered the 'sons of the stars'; Titua K'uku, the only one being permitted to carry them in her pouches as they returned to their village.

Solo retrieved the ilmenite dagger, examining it."This was stolen from a museum," he said to Illya, "maybe we should return it?"

"It was stolen from the Olmecs first...perhaps it is best we leave it in their care as was intended, along with the cha'ngi n daiza d ii? They are the ones who know and respect the power that these artifacts posess. I am sure Titua K'uku will keep them safe?"

Napoleon nodded in agreement. These mystical objects didn't belong in his and Illya's world...and best they should remain hidden.

That evening, there was great celebration in the the village. The xe tatnaya used the power of the stones one last time to heal the wounds of her people before she vowed to hide the cha'ngi n daiza ii where no man would find them again.

The people sang songs of their great victory over the false shaman and they beat their drums and joyfully played their primitive flutes adding the names of Tee Kwaa and Dito Tado to their verses.

They feasted on roast tapir and fish, hot peppers spiced with cumin and cacao, corn bread, fresh fruit, a hot cacao drink and of course corn-beer. This time Napoleon forced himself to forget how the beer was made and simply enjoyed it; thankful that he and Illya had survived this bizarre and inexplicable adventure.

The two agents crawled off to their hut late into the night as the next day the would have an early start heading out to the the small city of Acayucan, at least ten miles northwest of the village.

The next morning the U.N.C.L.E. agents woke with a start; sitting up, as they stared out in disbelief. They were lying on mats out in the open and there was no sign of the village or it's inhabitants. As a matter of fact, it looked as though the village had never had even been there.

"O.K. this is going to be a good one for the records?" Napoleon said as he dusted himself off, " Was it real or did we dream any of this?"

"Had to be," the Russian answered as he held up a woven pouch of food supplies. Tied to the straps were two small carved jade pendants...one of a jaguar, the other of an eagle.

"Our animal totems," Illya smiled, placing the jaguar pendant around his neck as he handed the eagle to Napoleon.

A week later they were back in headquarters filing their surprisingly brief report to Alexander Waverly. They both agreed on the flight home to leave out the more mystical details of the mission, as they would probably be sent for a psyche evaluation once Waverly heard about singing stone heads, butterflies, living snake statues and a disappearing village.

"Yes sir, after we lost our jeep we ah...wandered the jungle until we came upon Emory Partridge. He had a sound amplifcation device, a prototype..."Napoleon said.

"Yes and using a deposit of ilmenite he had found;he used it to boost the signal to disrupt communications." Illya added.

"And what became of the device and Partridge?"

"The device was completely destroyed."

"Partridge disappered sir," Illya added," Though we think he will not be returning to bother us again."

"And what makes you say that?"

"Just a hunch sir," Napoleon said, looking over at his partner as he tried to hide his smile.

"Very well then gentlemen. Good job, thank you. You are dismissed."

Napoleon and Illya stole a quick glance at each other, trying no to look too guilty as thet stolled out of the conference room together.

Alexander Waverly shook his head, knowing that his agents weren't telling him the whole truth of the matter. But at this point the most important thing that concerned him was that the communications grid had been restored and would not be interrupted again. He would find out the details of what they were leaving out...eventually. He struck a match to light his pipe when suddenly and orange butterfly landed on his his arm. "What the devil" And how did you get in here my lovely little creature?"

Napoleon lifted up the telephone receiver in his office calling for an outside line.

"Hello?"the voice at the other end answered.

"Bella il mio amore_ Bella my love!"

"Oh Napoleon you're back! I missed you."

"I missed you too. Can I see you tonight?"

Illya Kuryakin headed straight home, being greeted happily at the door by his son.

"Papa! You were gone too long! And mama too? When is she coming home? Did you bring me a present?"

Illya laughed at his son's excitement; pulling out the jaguar pendant from his pocket and handing it to Demya. "Do you know what this is Demyachka?"

The child shook his head as he examined it carefully.

"It looks like a cat?"

"It is the fierce jaguar...let us go find a book and we can read about it enh, and maybe about a people called the Olmecs?"

He looked at the time on his watch. "Then we will make a telephone call to mama, how does that sound?" the Russian smiled, hugging Demya close to him, thanking God for the mysterious events that had allowed him to return home to his son.


End file.
